


Perhaps A Little More Conversation

by evil_brainmate



Series: Monarch (butterfly) [2]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Nonbinary Eggsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3673074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evil_brainmate/pseuds/evil_brainmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times people thought Roxy and Eggsy were dating + One time someone knew better.</p><p>Notes: Nonbinary!Eggsy (who is still figuring things out), Roxy/OCs (briefly), Eggsy/Roxy (faked for a mission)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perhaps A Little More Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> This is the follow up to [And When You Came Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3669498) so I would suggest reading that first.
> 
> Unbeta'd. My apologies for any mistakes.

1 – The Mark

It's a simple enough mission. First, Roxy and Eggsy just need slip into a charity gala as a wealthy philanthropist and her plus one. Next, find the corrupt politician who has been funneling money into his own stake in several human-trafficking rings while claiming to give the money to charity. Finally, assassinate him and slip out unnoticed. Roxy looks absolutely stunning in a slinky little black number with subtle gold T-strap stilettos (with reinforced heels for greater penetration), and a matching clutch (hiding a small pistol and an assortment of knives). Eggsy doesn't look too shabby either if he says so himself, and he does, but the gorgeous agent on his arm was definitely adding to the appeal. Seriously, they look fucking flawless and Eggsy is going to demand pictures because he knows Merlin has to be able to get them somehow.

Eggsy slips his hand to Roxy's waist and pulls her a little closer. “Three o'clock. Chatting up that guy with the epic handlebar mustache,” Eggsy whispers. “Got him?”

Roxy lets out a surprisingly convincing laugh and taps a _Yes_ against Eggsy's arm. To the rest of the room, they look like two lovers trading sweet nothings and heated whispers.

“Time to work our magic then.”

“I'll be right back, love,” Roxy says just loud enough to be overheard by anyone in the immediate vicinity, but not calling attention to them. She slips from Eggsy's grasp, sliding a hand down his arm as she leaves, and yeah, Eggsy's a bit distracted by the sway of her hips when she walks towards the open bar. He would give his right arm for that kind of lethal grace. Roxy casually surveys the room and locks eyes with the mark, then glances away and back a moment later.

“Locked. He's heading your way now Lancelot,” Merlin says in Roxy's ear. She's not wearing her Kingsman glasses tonight, but Merlin kitted her up earlier with a set of communicator earrings and is working visuals from security cameras and the feed from Eggsy's glasses. Roxy leans casually against the bar top and waits for her target to approach, not that it takes long at all.

“My but aren't you a marvelous creature?” The mark, a rather portly man in his mid-fifties, asks as he sidles up next to Roxy. “David Schumacher, a pleasure to make your acquaintance miss...”

“Lance. Rachel Lance, and the pleasure is mine,” Roxy says.

“Can I get you a drink Miss Lance? Or would your... 'plus one' mind terribly?” He asks, gesturing to Eggsy who isn't staring, but occasionally glances over to keep apprised.

“I'll have a martini please,” Roxy replies. “And just Rachel is fine, David.”

“What brings a lovely young lady like yourself here tonight, Rachel?” His hand is now on Roxy's arm. His grip is loose enough to not hold her there, but there's definitely some failed seduction and forced familiarity behind it.

“Well, helping people is my true calling, David,” Roxy's voice sounds brittle to her own ears. She carefully dislodges David's hand by brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

“I know you're armed to the teeth, but try to keep it quick and clean, Lancelot,” Merlin's voice rings in her ears.

Roxy waits until she has an opening when the mark hands a sizable tip to the bartender and she pours a vial of poison into the man's glass with a sleight of hand Eggsy would be proud of.

“A toast then, my dear?” David asks as he hands her her drink.

“To making a difference,” Roxy says.

“To making a difference.”

Roxy continues conversing with David until the man has nearly drained his drink, and his assistant appears.

“Sir, it's time for the evening's speeches. You are up after Ms. Kensington,” the assistant says, and gestures for his benefactor to accompany him.

“Of course. I do apologize, my dear, but I must do my part in saving the world,” the mark announces loudly enough for a few people nearby to take notice. Pompous arsehole.

“It was a pleasure, David,” Roxy replies in a saccharine voice that makes her want to gag, and with that she wanders back toward Eggsy. Occasionally chatting up fellow guests along the way so as not to be too obvious.

“What a tosser,” Eggsy mutters when Roxy gets back and she tucks under his arm and hands Eggsy the unfinished martini.

“Jealous, darling?” Roxy teases. It's all part of the game, and she knows that other attendees saw her chatting up such an esteemed guest, so she lets Eggsy play up the jealous lover card.

“Of every man graced with your presence,” Eggsy replies easily enough, and receives a positively brutal pinch to the arm for his trouble.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please,” a self important looking announcer states. “We would like to thank you for joining us this evening to support this great cause. Before you open those checkbooks, we have a few guests who would like to speak to you about the impact of your efforts.”

Eggsy fights the urge to roll his eyes, but he waits through the speeches until everyone, Mr. Schumacher included, has left the stage.

“Time to go?” he whispers to Roxy. Roxy nods and pulls out her checkbook and the Mightier Pen. Two clicks later and Mr. Schumacher hits the floor.

Paramedics say it looks like the poor man had a heart attack, dreadfully sad.

“Excellent work you two,” Merlin says when Eggsy and Roxy get into their Kingsman cab after they are released from the gala. “I'll be available if you need me, but I trust you can take it from here?”

“We're good, Merlin. Galahad out.”

“Lancelot out,” Roxy adds. “It's nice to have things go as planned for once. We didn't even have to resort to Plan B.”

“Damn shame, that. Makin' out in a dark corner with me would be the highlight of your life. Seriously, tell your grandkids about that, you would.”

“Really?” Roxy laughs and raises an eyebrow.

“Alright, maybe just highlight of your week then and you'd tell your goldfish. Maybe your dog too if I really try.”

“Oh well if it's a goldfish worthy story, I might just have to risk the jealous wrath of the incredibly suave and deadly Mr. Hart.”

“Can't be jealous if nothing's going on. Between any of us. At all.”

The cab is quiet for a minute and Eggsy slouches down to avoid the look on Roxy's face. He knows she means well and isn't making fun of him really, but sometimes Eggsy forgets himself.

“I didn't even get to try these out,” Roxy says mournfully as she pulls off her heels in an effort to change the subject.

“We could always try to get mugged on the way home, yeah? Get a front row seat to watchin' you go all Batman on someone,” Eggsy replies and flicks his wrist as if he were throwing a batarang.

“I don't think Batman kills people, which is completely stupid,” Roxy muses. “There's no way half those guys would walk away from what he does to them.”

“Good thing we ain't in comics then. It's nice for the baddies to stay dead.”

“Only if you remember to check the body.”

 

2 – Merlin

Eggsy can't say he cares much for desk work, but Kingsman can't be shoot outs and explosions all the time. Hence, here he is in Merlin's office languishing in the background running software updates on their mobile devices. It's all pretty mindless stuff Merlin could do in his sleep, but why do that when you can foist off the mind numbing shit on the newbie?

Okay, maybe Eggsy shouldn't have been prowling around in Merlin's domain anyway. Curiosity leads to this cat dying of boredom.

Eggsy spins around lazily in his appropriated chair waiting for three cell phones to restart. His eyes wander to Merlin's screen and “Good lord, what is that?!” Eggsy says.

Merlin's eyes flick from the screen to Eggsy and back. “That would be Lancelot's target, sadly.”

“Wait, I thought she was supposed to sweet talk a bloke and you know...” Eggsy trails off as he looks back at Merlin.

The 'target' is the stuff of nightmares. Older guy, balding, bad teeth, tan leathery skin and a frankly bulbous nose that just makes his watery eyes look even beadier. He's flushed and slightly clumsy, probably drunk. Obviously has some heart issues given his sweating and labored breathing, and Eggsy's pretty sure the bloke's gonna keel over if he ever gets it up.

“The term you're looking for is 'honeypot',” Merlin corrects.

“Nah, pretty sure the term I'm lookin' for is 'gross'. With a mug like that? Rox is a goddamn trooper, she is.”

“Perhaps, you shouldn't be here for this, Eggsy. I understand it can't be easy for you.”

“As long as I don't gotta see that sod's goolies, I think I'll live. 'Sides, I still got like fifteen more of these little shits to update,” Eggsy replies, waving a hand at the legion of powered off devices on the desk behind him.

“Just an offer. I thought given your and Lancelot's... relationship you'd rather not—”

“Rox can handle herself. I got a tenner says she karate chops that bastard in the neck before he can even get her dress off.”

Merlin doesn't answer but fixes Eggsy with a pitying look, and what the fuck is all that about? Eggsy's not the one with some ancient ugly bastard's hand up his skirt. Not that he's wearing a one around the office, obviously. Eggsy shrugs it off and goes back to updating the next couple of tablets, babysitting them through any hiccups and agreeing to EULAs and Terms and Conditions when prompted.

Seriously, fuck Merlin. Eggsy could just bail given his earlier invitation, but he wants to stick around and at least tell Roxy that she's fuckin' amazing when she finishes up her mission. She deserves a verbal pat on the back after dealing with that horror show of a target.

Sure enough, when Roxy reaches the target's bedroom a few minutes later, the bloke's hands are barely tugging down the material at her shoulders and she launches an amnesia dart right into the creep's neck.

“Seriously, Rox? No kung fu or nothin'?” Eggsy asks as he crowds up behind Merlin. He receives a glare from the handler at the invasion of space, but Merlin doesn't force Eggsy to move, so Eggsy takes it as tacit approval.

“Alright Lancelot, you have thirty minutes, to get the data and leave. His terminal should be in the office to your right,” Merlin instructs.

“Thirty minutes? Really? Like that bugger could even last five,” Eggsy huffs.

“Don't make me laugh. I'm on a mission here, Galahad,” she chides, but her undignified snort is enough to make Eggsy crack a smile.

Nothing else is said while Roxy musses her appearance a bit and waits for the data to transfer. Twenty-five minutes later, she says goodnight to security and walks out the front door with no one the wiser.

“Exemplary performance, Lancelot,” Merlin says when Roxy gets into her cab.

“Great job, Rox, really.” Eggsy adds. “We'll get a pint when you get home, yeah?”

“Sounds good, Eggsy, and thank you Merlin. Lancelot out.”

Roxy's feed switches to standby; still showing a muted transmission in the corner of Merlin's screen.

“You handled that fairly professionally, Eggsy, aside from all your usual joking. I'm impressed,” Merlin says after checking the data that Roxy's uploaded to the server.

“I handled—It's Roxy's mission?” Eggsy replies, and what the hell is Merlin talkin' about 'cause Eggsy is not following.

“Sometimes, these types of missions come with our work. It isn't always easy to see a loved one... intimate with someone else. Although, Lancelot was a lot less so with this one than other missions might require.”

And now fuckin' sirens are going off in Eggsy's head because what the hell? “Intimate? Someone else?”

“This is why we try to avoid—”

“You takin' the piss? You think me and Roxy is 'intimate'?” Everything clicks all at once and Eggsy feels really stupid, but also offended because what the hell is everyone up in his personal shit for?

“You're not?” Merlin asks confusion coloring his voice.

“No! God no!” Eggsy snaps. “I don't mean to sound like—Not that Rox is a troll or nothin' but just no? She's my best mate. We lived together in an open room with no bathroom walls or privacy for months. Trust me, that is not sexy.”

“I apologize, then. I took your close friendship out of context,” Merlin says.

Eggsy turns back to the tablets and he's pretty sure his face is permanently stuck in a horrified expression akin to that time he saw a massive cockroach in Peru. Really, he's never gonna forgive Roxy for snapchatting that shit to Merlin either. “Apology accepted. I'm just... gonna finish these updates, yeah?”

“Good.”

“Alright.”

 

3 – The Other Knights (and then some)

It's a bizarre turn of events when Roxy is the one laid up, because everyone knows that Eggsy is usually the impulsive, self-sacrificing bastard who seems to be in medical more often than not. Not this time though. While on their previous mission, Roxy spotted a grenade at the last second and yanked Eggsy behind cover, but twisted her ankle on the way down. While it was nothing serious, Eggsy still eliminated their targets with extreme prejudice. After an initial overnight in medical to make sure nothing's broken, Roxy is convalescing at home and Eggsy finds himself with time off and Roxy demanding his servitude in exchange for saving his hide.

Fair deal, Eggsy thinks. So he spends an afternoon taking care of Roxy's apartment, babysitting their dogs Bruce and JB, and (not over) feeding Roxy's bloody goldfish. They have the standard fare of pizza and beer for an early dinner after Eggsy nearly sets the kitchen on fire. Eggsy swears he can cook; Roxy's stove just hates him. They round out the evening watching Die Hard amidst a mass of snack food. JB and Bruce are tucked up together against Roxy's side while Eggsy painstakingly paints a golden Kingsman emblem one of Roxy's toenails. Her other foot is wrapped and still too tender for him to fuss about with. Seriously, he owes her one for keeping all his insides... well inside, so pedicure it is. All in all, it's not the worst way he's ever spent an evening.

“Where'd you learn how to do this, anyway?” Roxy asks as she wiggles her baby toes.

“I uh—I used to watch me mum do her nails up when my Dad was still 'round. Didn't have money to get 'em done professionally and what not, but she could do some fancy stuff. It was like paintin' yeah, but really tiny,” Eggsy explains while he finishes up the emblem and starts looking through Roxy's other colors.

“You know you can do yours too.”

Eggsy blushes, just the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks. “Nah, that's alright.”

“Really?” Roxy asks and she leans forward to pluck one of the bottles he's gazing at fondly. “Because I think I have a purple that would suit you. Very royal.”

There's a moment of awkward silence as he looks between Roxy and the bottle in her outstretched hand.

“Alright. You twisted my arm,” Eggsy says and holds out his hand. Roxy obligingly turns his wrist and hands over the polish. “And uh... Thanks y'know, for not laughin'.”

“Why would I laugh?”

“Not a lot of people get it. A bloke that likes... y'know.”

“I know Eggsy,” Roxy replies, because Eggsy doesn't talk much about these things. Roxy's probably one of a small handful of people who knows about any of his personal struggles underneath his Kingsman/chav bravado. “You really shouldn't listen to all that rubbish. You'll always have me in your corner. Probably Merlin too.”

“Seein' me cover up a bruise ain't exactly the same as knowin' I paint my nails or—or look at dresses, Rox.”

“Anyone who wants to talk shit about you can fight me, Eggsy.”

Eggsy gives her a non-committal 'hmm' in return, but she'll take his small smile—and the fact that he has actually started painting his own toes—as a victory.

“So how'd things with that cute girl in the tech department go?” Eggsy asks a few minutes and some glorious televised explosions later, eager to change the subject.

“It didn't. Apparently, she's not into bisexual girls?”

“Ouch.”

“Not the first time I've heard it,” Roxy grumbles and digs out a packet of crisps. “No the thing that really got me was that she seemed, kind of offended when I asked.”

“Well that's rude.”

“I know right? Seriously, the look she gave me, I'm surprised my face didn't melt off.”

“Huh... Sounds like Gawain,” Eggsy says as he caps the nail polish and lets his toes dry. He'll have to scrub it off with acetone before his next mission, but they really are a nice color now.

“Wait, you asked out Gawain?” Roxy asks.

“No! He and I were doing a reconnaissance thing together last week and I was chatting up a waitress, who was diggin' the whole sharp dressed man vibe. The second I gave her my number—strictly my burner number mind you—and told her to call if she saw anything suspicious, Gawain got this look like I had shot a dog. Well, no he'd probably be okay with that, but you know what I mean.” Eggsy could see the gears in Roxy's head as she started putting together the information. “Why you lookin' at me like that?”

“Kay was asking about you the other day.”

“Alright. Not following.”

“Not in a creepy way,” Roxy clarifies. Which really any spy asking questions is creepy in Eggsy's book, but maybe he's just paranoid. “He just asked how you were doing, while I was texting some bloke.”

“Some bloke?”

“Well I struck out with Elizabeth, didn't I? Figured I'll try for the guy who works at the bookstore down the block.”

“Civilian, then? That'll be fun.” His tone very obviously indicating: 'Danger! Danger!'

“Not everyone's looking for Mr. Right, Eggsy,” Roxy sighs. “Just Mr. Right-Now.”

“Gotcha. In that case, I hope it actually is fun.”

“The point I was trying to get to is that it seems quite a few people we work with are very interested in our personal lives.”

“Well yeah, I guess us Kingsmen are all kinda close. I mean, I'm starting to remember people's birthdays and kids' names and stuff.”

“A sharp memory and observational skills are a good thing, Eggsy. Now, focus please.”

“Merlin thought we were dating," Eggsy says. "When I was lurking in the background during your mission with the creature from the black lagoon.”

“Ugh, don't remind me. Wait, Merlin thought we were dating?”

“Well he said 'intimate' but yeah, same thing I s'pose,” Eggsy replies with a shrug.

“Shit,” Roxy hisses. “That's what I was suspecting. This explains so much.”

“You mean everyone is cock blockin' us 'cause they think we're dating? Or cheating I guess in this case.”

“Cock blocking me, more like. You've effectively did it to yourself by falling in love with the unattainable Harry Hart. And really Eggsy, you need to get a move on that.”

“I will Rox, it's just... a delicate situation.” Eggsy carefully avoids looking at Roxy and digs a handful of crisps out of the near empty packet next to him. Yeah, he's eating his emotions, fuck off.

“The only thing 'delicate' about it is going to be his hips when you finally get a leg over in twenty years. Seriously, grow a spine.”

“Oi, no need to be like that,” Eggsy sputters.

“You're right Eggsy. I shall apologize to all the invertebrates next time we go to an aquarium.”

“Ugh, alright. I get it. I will sweep Harry off his feet ASAP.”

“Honestly, your infatuation with Harry should be obvious enough for people to realize you're not madly in love with me. Though maybe they think you're trying to cover an 'unfortunate spate of homosexuality',” Roxy's derisive snort shows just what she thinks of that bullshit. “Or maybe you're just greedy and want both of us.”

“Fuck it. Harlots, that's what we is. Sorry, Roxy but I been untrue,” Eggsy confesses.

On cue, Roxy lets out a dramatic gasp, “Eggsy how could you? You fiend!” She balls up the empty crisp packet and throws it at Eggsy's head. “Mother was right about you!”

Both JB and Bruce shuffle about on the bed next to them, curious about the theatrics. Eggsy chuckles and picks up JB to scratch behind the pug's ears. “Why a bunch of grown men stickin' their noses in our business anyway? I mean I know I said we're all close, but hell...”

“Officially? Probably some rubbish about team cohesion and loyalties,” Roxy answers putting on an air of aristocratic superiority that reminds Eggsy of the previous Arthur. “Unofficially, because we're spies and spies pretty much live to gossip. Information, secrets, intrigue. It's more or less our life blood to be busy bodies.”

“Is it too late to become a super villain? Do they have to put up with this shit?”

“Probably, though they're more morally flexible in how they deal with it.”

“Whatever. I vote we just tell people the truth,” Eggsy groans in defeat. “If they even bother askin'. I don't have the energy to deal with elaborate plans or nothin'.”

Roxy raises an eyebrow at that. “No announcements over our comms? Not even going to make a sign?”

“Nah.” Eggsy cuddles into a pillow with JB and watches John McClane drop the bad guy out a window.

“No pyrotechnic displays? Fireworks saying 'I don't love Roxy'?”

“Nope.”

“That's surprisingly boring of you, Eggsy. I think you're losing your touch,” Roxy teases and turns back to watch the end of the film.

“Piss off.”

 

4 – Harry Hart

It's not that Harry doesn't like Lancelot—Roxanne—Roxy. He's a fan of her work. She's smart, attractive, deadly, professional and everything a Kingsman agent should be.

It's not that he's necessarily against agents being together, either. It's not preferable as it has a tendency to split loyalties, but he can see the... appeal in having someone you don't have to guard every conversation around. Someone who always has your back.

No, what he has a problem with is that Roxy is an attractive young woman who has managed to snare the object of Harry's affections, and he can't even hate her for it. Harry's man enough to admit when he's beaten, but he still feels like some bitter old codger mourning over the one that got away. Maybe he is.

He just likes to think that there's something to the way that Eggsy looked at him—still looks at him even. Obviously there was some awe after that initial pub fight, and yes that did shamelessly stroke Harry's ego thank you very much. Maybe he read too much into their early interactions when he nominated Eggsy, and later when he had shared so much of himself and his career during the end of Eggsy's recruitment process. Harry doesn't like to dwell on their last conversation before he went to Kentucky, all raw emotion and hurt and lashing out on both sides, but Eggsy has stuck to him like a burr since his recovery. Harry just doesn't know how to classify their interactions because the line is blurring between what he hopes to see and what is.

Well, that's not entirely true. Harry knows how to classify his own side of things: dangerous powerful creatures to be locked up in a box and labeled “Danger! Do not open on pain of death!”

No, the conundrum is Eggsy's feelings on the matter. There's loyalty, obviously, but is it loyalty born of mentorship or a perceived debt to Harry for 'saving' him? Are the glances of admiration that Harry sometimes catches just hero worship?

Even tossing all that aside, there is still the question of whether or not Eggsy even finds him attractive. From what Harry knows, Eggsy has never mentioned an attraction to men, much less older men with more scars than sense. Although, if theoretically Eggsy was interested in older men, Harry would most certainly have him in a very un-gentlemanly fashion. Also, that would require that Roxy be out of the picture. Those are rather big ifs, and Harry has never been much of a gambler where personal stakes are concerned.

Regardless, Harry steels himself for the conversation he's about to have with his protege. He won't bother trying to stop Eggsy and Roxy from seeing each other, because that would be pointless and he couldn't likely keep to those rules either were it himself in Roxy's place. So instead he'll just keep to the schoolhouse standard “please nothing lewd in the halls” and the Kingsman standard “don't get anyone killed”. Simple rules are often the most effective.

A few minutes later, the door to Harry's office opens and Eggsy steps inside without so much as a by your leave.

“Knocking, Eggsy,” Harry sighs, and really he shouldn't be so fond of poor manners.

“You was the one who asked to see me, Harry,” Eggsy replies and invites himself to have a seat. “What's up?”

Yes, obviously all his etiquette lessons are lost on the young man. Maybe Roxy will succeed where Harry has failed.

“I have a matter of a rather personal nature to discuss with you,” Harry says as he slips off his glasses and sets them aside.

“Oh shit,” Eggsy's eyes go wide and he looks like Harry has placed a live bomb in front of him and asked him to defuse it. “Look Harry, I can explain.”

“That's not necessary Eggsy. Relationships with civilians lead to uncomfortable questions, and I understand that familiarity can often breed attraction to one's companions. Since I first proposed you, you've spent most of your time at Kingsman facilities in our company. It's only natural that things would progress this way.”

“Really?" Eggsy asks. And well, Harry has a point. Eggsy's been practically glued to Harry's side since he found out the man survived V-Day. "So you're okay with this then?”

Eggsy no longer looks like the world is ending, and there's the dreaded voice in the back of Harry's conscious saying _No, not at all. Stop that right now._

“Why wouldn't I be?” Harry asks. “Relationships between Kingsman are fine as long as you can be reasonably discreet in Kingsman common areas and no one ends up dead, because really if a lover's quarrel ends up in dead agents or mangled furniture, I will be greatly disappointed.”

“So, just to clarify: I'm not fired?”

“Kingsman typically can't be fired, Eggsy.”

“And you're 100% sure about this?" Eggsy asks and he's got a hopeful gleam in his eye that would be particularly nauseating if Harry were any less fond of him. "'Cause I mean, I didn't even think you knew.”

“Yes Eggsy, I'm sure,” Harry says, and he has to look away from the grin on Eggsy's face because the sheer joy in his expression is enough to make his heart clench.

“Um, those aren't recording right?”

“Of course not, I value your privacy—” Harry replies as he looks back up and oh god taking his eyes off Eggsy for even a moment was apparently a mistake because now Eggsy is very close! “Eggsy?”

“So... Would it be alright if I kissed you then?” Eggsy asks, painfully shy and but still so very earnest as he leans into Harry's space.

“Beg pardon?”

“I-Uh... I asked if I could kiss you? I thought you said you were okay with this?” Eggsy asks and _Oh no please no_ he thinks, because Harry has the most fucking shell shocked expression and it would be hilarious if it wasn't for the circumstance.

“Are we even talking about the same thing, Eggsy?”

“Oh shit... Shit goddamn,” Eggsy hisses and backs away from Harry and topples into a chair, real fuckin' smooth Eggsy. “I am so sorry Harry. Just forget I said anything! I'm just going to go crawl under a rock now, yeah?”

“Eggsy, just take a moment and let's start this conversation over.”

“Oh hell no. Once is enough thanks. I'd like the mortification to stop please.”

“Obviously, there's been a misunderstanding. I'd really rather not leave things like this,” Harry pleads, and fuck Eggsy is a weak man and he can't say no when Harry uses that tone.

“Alright,” Eggsy groans and scrubs his hands over his face for a second trying to hide his embarrassment. “Starting over in three, two, one. So, you wanted to see me, Harry?”

Harry can't help but laugh and really, Eggsy is so gracious to just wait for him to get it out of his system.

“What? You said to start over,” Eggsy huffs.

“I didn't expect you to take it so literally, but yes,” Harry agrees once he has recovered. “So Eggsy, I have a rather personal query that you may choose to ignore if you wish.”

“Yeah?”

“I apologize for overstepping, but dubiously reliable intelligence suggests that you might happen to be involved with one of your fellow agents.”

“Fuck. You mean Roxy don't you?”

“Yes.”

“God damn it! Not you too.”

“Come again?”

“I don't understand what is wrong with people. It's been like this for weeks. Seriously, Rox and I aren't a thing. She's my friend. People can be friends,” Eggsy grumps and now he's hiding his face in his hands again, because seriously? Can his life get any more fucked up right now?

“Actually, everyone has more or less assumed this for months, not weeks,” Harry corrects him. “I apologize, Eggsy.”

Eggsy lets his hands drop listlessly to his sides. “Ugh. Doesn't anyone have anything else to talk about around here?”

“Well yes. We have many scintillating conversations about the finer points of assassination and sabotage. Gossiping is rather an occupational hazard given that it's less morbid entertainment.”

“Right, so now that that's out there, and well obviously everything else is kinda out there 'cause I made a god damn fool of myself, are we still cool?” Eggsy asks, because he desperately needs for things to be okay. Hell, he'll try to fucking hit Harry with an amnesia dart if he has to, though he'll probably fail. “I—obviously I've got some feelings for ya, and I'll deal with them. I swear. I just need to know that things are alright between us.”

“Well yes and no, Eggsy,” Harry admits, and he doesn't know how well he can salvage this situation, but he will try.

“Damn it. Can't we just ignore it like—”

“I would rather not ignore this, Eggsy, given that I would very much like to take you to dinner.” And there it is, Harry's cards are on the table just as Eggsy's were a few minutes ago. Now they just have to decide who wins.

“Wait-what?”

“Dinner, Eggsy. You and I. Wednesday perhaps, so you still have time to prepare for your next mission?”

“I—uh...” _Jesus Christ, get it together Eggsy!_ “Yeah? I'd like that.”

“Shall I wait until you're polysyllabic again so we can discuss the details?”

“Oi! Don't be an arse,” Eggsy huffs. “Ugh, this was totally not the way this was supposed to go. There was definitely supposed to be more sweeping.”

“Sweeping?”

“Uh yeah. Not the custodial kind, but the whole sweep em off their feet thing.” And shit, feet thing. Right. Eggsy's an idiot. “Uh, one more thing,” Eggsy says as he tugs at the laces of his Oxfords.

“Why are you taking off your shoes?” Harry asks, because really of all the possible reactions to a potential date, Eggsy's is certainly novel.

“It's um... It's more of a visual? I'm—shit, I'm not very good at explaining this and it's kind of weird, but I should uh, get this out of the way now.” _And not wait for it all to blow up in my face later,_ Eggsy adds mentally. He peels off his socks and stands barefoot on the carpet head tilted down to look at the shimmering pink and gold lacquer glinting on his toes, and it's kind of fitting that Harry gets to first see him in a color he's selected himself; not one from Roxy's collection.

“Nail polish?” Harry asks nonplussed.

“You see—Okay so I lived like half my life with Dean right? Hyper-masculine fuck head who felt like a big man for hitting women and kids, so um... I never really fit the bill for being a 'proper' man, but I got damn good at hiding it, yeah? And obviously some of it I like, like some of my street clothes and some of it is adaptation I really can't ditch, but um... Point is, I'm still a man, yeah, but also, sometimes I don't feel like that? And whatever, sometimes traditionally 'manly' things just ain't me, and this is. Sometimes it's the other way around. Not everyone's okay with that, obviously, and I don't bring it with me on missions or even to the office because who I have to be out there ain't always the same as who I am here, yeah?” Eggsy explains tapping at his chest. “But uh, if we do anything, I need to know you are okay with who I am here. Sorry, if that's not—well y'know.”

The silence hangs thick in the air while Eggsy just watches and waits for Harry to process this confession, and that intense focus unnerves Harry a little. Of all the things he could expect, this was... well not even on the list if he's being completely honest. Does this really matter? Well, yes, obviously but it only changes circumstance. It doesn't change the fact that Harry has feelings for Eggsy and that he's been hoping for months for a chance at this, so he goes with his instincts and hopes for the best.

“Eggsy, you don't have to apologize,” Harry murmurs and he pulls Eggsy a bit closer and tilts the young man's chin up to look at him. “I have always been a proponent of adapting to new circumstances. And I would still like to take you to dinner.”

Apparently, Harry must have said something right, because Eggsy is positively glowing now.

“You're serious?” Eggsy asks, because he has to be one hundred percent sure. Because this is absolutely unreal, and way more than he had ever expected. “You are asking me out on a date, right? You're not weirded out by this at all?”

Harry can't help but laugh at Eggsy's candor, and he finally relaxes enough to ease back into their usual banter. “Eggsy, with the way you were treating your feet, I was expecting some horrifying flesh eating fungus or a hideous tattoo of someone's name.”

“You rank tattoos with flesh eating grossness?”

“Only the horrifically tacky ones, Eggsy.”

“Tacky—Do you have a tattoo?”

“That's something you will have to find out.”

“You so fucking do! Lemme guess—”

“Later, Eggsy. For now I would very much like to kiss you.”

“Oh, yeah sure,” Eggsy breathes.

“Such a poet,” Harry sighs, but he gently tilts Eggsy's chin and slides his lips against the young man's.

 

5 – The Bookstore Bloke

For the record, Eggsy never intends to be a huge fucking cock block, given his and Roxy's recent predicament, but apparently that is an unintended side effect of ever being near Eggsy Unwin. Who would have guessed? Okay, that might technically be untrue, because Eggsy has an impending date this week. Still, the fact remains Eggsy is once again all that is standing between Roxy and a very promising hookup.

Well, sitting really, not standing. And not necessarily between, but more off to the side on Roxy's couch eating ice cream with Bruce.

Sweet lord, Roxy and that bloke are gonna have to breathe sometime right? Eggsy covers Bruce's eyes—because seriously the pooch is only like a year old, he can't see his mum like this—and clears his throat.

Roxy spins around and with throws the nearest object, a decorative vase, with all the accuracy and strength she possesses. Really, she should be grateful that Eggsy is able to catch it before it busts up against his head.

“Eggsy, what the fuck?” Roxy hisses.

“Uh—hi?” Eggsy bleats and yep, this is how he dies. He's never gonna make his date with Harry because his headstone will read 'Here lies Eggsy Unwin that colossal fucking cock block'.

“Who's this?” The guy—Roxy's bookstore bloke, maybe—asks.

“I'm Eggsy,” Eggsy replies and yeah that's fucking lame even to his own ears.

“You have a boyfriend?”

“NO!” Both Roxy and Eggsy yell in unison.

“No, uh. Fuck sorry, I didn't know you were having company, Rox,” Eggsy rambles and sets the pilfered ice cream on the coffee table. “I just pinged your phone and saw you were on your way back, so I thought I'd pop by.” And oh shit now he realizes that sounds creepy.

“You pinged her phone?” the clerk asks, looking rightly horrified.

“Not in a creepy way, I swear. It's a game for us.” _Shit, shit shut up Eggsy. You're just making it worse,_ he tells himself.

“A game?”

“You should ask about the time she triangulated my position specifically to jump onto my back from a fire escape,” Eggsy replies.

“Eggsy!” Roxy growls and makes a chopping motion next to her neck. Right, civilians. Shit.

Sir Reads-a-lot just continues to look between Eggsy and Roxy. “Look, I don't know what's going on between you two, but I don't want to get in the middle of some weird couple or ex-couple thing. It was a pleasure Roxy. Have a good evening.”

“Woah woah woah, look bruv you got the wrong idea,” Eggsy yelps and he is up on his feet and between the door and Roxy's date in record time, because he is a god damn champ, and he's going to fix this really. Hopefully. “Rox, I was just poppin' by to say I did the thing. Only with a lot less sweeping off the feet and a lot more babbling, but I gotta bail on our movie night 'cause Harry and I are havin' a date. So, you two please have a lovely evening, and I'm terribly sorry.”

With that, Eggsy scrambles out the door and waits a few feet down the hall to make sure that Mr. Mystery-Seller doesn't flee the scene. He presses up to the wall he knows is on the other side of Roxy's living room and listens for a moment.

“So... Not your boyfriend?”

“God no,” Roxy replies, and Eggsy can hear the exasperation in her voice, but he waits another minute until he's satisfied that he hasn't royally cocked things up, and then heads home.

He's still sure poor Bruce is too young to be witnessing those sorts of things.

 

+1 – Michelle Unwin

Theoretically, Michelle Unwin probably shouldn't be so happy when her son brings a girl home and locks the door to his bedroom, but this is Roxy. Michelle knew from day one what was going on between them because the first time Eggsy brought Roxy home, he introduced her with conspiratorial grin and a brief “Mum, this is my friend, Roxy.” No attempt at subterfuge and well, Eggsy had mentioned her plenty of times before.

That said, today Michelle Unwin is really just grateful for the break from Eggsy's pre-date jitters, for fuck's sake. Michelle loves her son, truly, but if she has to hear him flip his shit one more time over Harry Hart, she might have to take drastic measures and shove the boy's tie down his own throat.

Okay, maybe she won't kill Eggsy for being over the moon about this date, because it is really lovely to see him happy and coming into his own. Still, Michelle has been sitting in the living room and playing with her daughter for the past hour, while she lets Roxy take over because sometimes Eggsy needs support from someone besides his mother. And yeah, sometimes Michelle feels like she royally screwed up on the support part when Eggsy's father died and she slumped into a depression which led to alcohol, which led to truly shitty self esteem, which led to Dean and it became a never ending spiral of misery. It amazes her that Eggsy came back and pulled her and her daughter out of that mess, asking noting in return when he could have just cut his losses and gotten the fuck out of there.

So now, Michelle makes sure to support her son in every way. The nail polish is new, and she's noticed a dress hanging in the back of Eggsy's closet, but honestly considering her son came home a few months ago able to put a man in the hospital with the barest flick of his wrist, she can take anything in stride.

“Alright, I think we're done,” Roxy calls and frog marches Eggsy into the living room. “What do you think Ms. Unwin?”

And Eggsy looks absolutely radiant in a dove gray suit and white shirt paired with a dark plum tie. She's noticing more of the latter color in his wardrobe these days.

“Roxy fixed me up alright, yeah mum?” he asks, his cheeks still a little pink from nerves.

“Better than alright. I think anyone would feel like the luckiest person in the world to have you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was going somewhere with the make up thing in the first fic. Nonbinary!Eggsy is my ultimate weakness.
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely support on the first part of the series! You guys are the best. Pop by my Kingsman tumblr @ [OGGALAHAD](http://oggalahad.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi.
> 
> Eggsy's nail polish choice is [Zoya's "Happi"](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/b7/90/d9/b790d9f7a48a18d1c64403cf7e245684.jpg) (a personal favorite).


End file.
